


Something to look forward to

by belmanoir



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 04:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/pseuds/belmanoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Fraser has a habit of saying important stuff while Ray's asleep.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to look forward to

**Author's Note:**

> Written for dS Match 2008 for the prompt "To which I can only say--oh hell." So many people to thank! First and most, thank you mlyn and innocentsmith for fantastic, insightful betas. I love you guys! Thank you to my fabulous team. Team Reality, y'all gave me so much feedback and encouragement on this story and were super awesome all round! In particular, thanks to andeincascade who reassured me it didn't suck and helped me figure out how to give it an arc and was sooo generous with her time and insight and enthusiasm, teaphile who helped me figure out how to tie up a loose thread that was driving me and my betas crazy, and j_s_cavalcante who gave me a simile. And lastly thank you to Sonia and snoopypez who put up with me saying "omg not talking about my match fic is killllling me" approximately every five minutes and were STILL awesome and supportive about my extremely vague stress and squee. I am way too lucky.

I'll admit it, I'm a guy with a tendency to fall asleep after sex. It used to drive Irene crazy, because she had to get me out of the Zuko house in one piece and I'd be so zonked I could barely keep my eyes open. 

And sex with Fraser--let me tell you, sex with Fraser takes everything I got. After that, even his shitty mattress can't keep me awake. So it took a couple weeks of sleeping over at his place before I realized he was talking to me while I was out. But one day, I guess I drank too much soda or something, because it was the middle of the night and I woke up. And Fraser said, "--Ray, you're awake," and it took me till I was washing my hands to realize why it had sounded weird. Because he'd already been talking. But try as I might, I couldn't remember what he'd been saying.

I went back to sleep and forgot about it until a few weeks later. We'd had a rough day, a whole lot of ugliness and a dead hooker with a nice smile, and I guess I wasn't sleeping as sound as usual. So I was drifting in and out, and I thought that Benny's voice was part of my nightmare, you know? Because he was saying, "Francesca put her hand on my chest, over my heart, and I couldn't move. It had been a very long time since I'd been touched. Your sister is beautiful, Ray, and she has your nose. I didn't know how to tell her no. But when she touched my stomach, it hurt. It hurt like hell, and she saw it. I was so grateful for that. I would have slept with her, Ray. I would have--"

But I remembered it the next day, and I wasn't so sure it was a dream. It didn't help that when I thought about it--and you better believe I thought about not much else all day--I remembered that I'd said, at some point during our investigation, _Look, Fraser, you might not understand using a woman for sex, but guys do it, okay?_ And maybe that was my answer. It made me feel mad and sick and sorry and hopeful all at once, the idea that Benny was staying up late pouring his heart out to me when he thought I couldn't hear it.

So that night I just faked going to sleep. I wasn't sure it would work, because Fraser's so sharp sometimes, it amazes me I don't start bleeding when he looks at me. On the other hand, I'd had a _lot_ of practice as a kid--Vecchio family vacations were not a place you wanted to be if you couldn't pretend to be snoozing in the back seat for most of it. I evened out my breathing, and I let my mouth fall open, and I even threw in a couple subtle snores, nothing too showy. 

It worked like a charm. After half an hour he was firmly in storytelling mode. "When I was thirteen, I cherished an infatuation for my best friend Mark." He chuckled a little. "Apparently I have a tendency in that direction."

I risked peeking, just a little fluttering of the eyelids. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, a smile playing around his mouth. I shut my eyes again before I did something stupid. 

"It went on for months. It was agony, a self-conscious agony that as far as I knew had no precedent in the history of the human race, as that particular sort of neurosis was underrepresented in my grandmother's library. She considered Dostoevsky theatrical and Joyce self-indulgent. Instead I was reading--well, this is a little embarrassing, but I was reading Montrose. The famous lines--

'He either fears his fate too much,  
Or his deserts are small,  
Who fears to put it to the touch  
To gain or lose it all.'

"I determined that this was--a sign, I suppose. I promised myself that the very next time I was alone with Mark, I would attempt to initiate--something. Speaking seemed impossibly frightening, but surely I could manage a kiss. The next day my father came home for a visit. He was deeply upset. You see, a friend of his had been dismissed from the force as a 'National Security Risk' after he was found to be a homosexual."

I tried to figure out where this was coming from. Then I realized it was probably in response to a story I'd told at lunch about putting up a signed photo of Pete Rose I'd sent away for, and being afraid my pop would know I didn't just love him for his batting average. (Since I finished out the seventh grade in one piece, I'm gonna assume he didn't.)

Part of me felt lower than low for listening. Part of me wanted to keep faking forever--just never sleep again. That way maybe I'd actually find out something about Fraser besides that his dad was the greatest cop who ever lived.

It didn't matter, because I knew damn well I wouldn't be able to keep listening to this much longer without saying _something_. I sat up. "Jesus, Fraser!" I exploded. "You gotta wait till I'm asleep to tell me this? When I can't even put a hand on your shoulder?"

Fraser sat up, too, his eyes wide. For a second I thought he was gonna deny everything, tell me it was all in my head and maybe I should go for another psych eval. Then he snapped his mouth shut and straightened his shoulders. "You were listening?" he said, and he sounded _dangerous_. In the corner Dief whined nervously.

And yeah, I felt like a piece of shit, and scared of that look on his face too, but if I let him he'd turn everything around until we were fighting over my invasion of his privacy and not his insanity at all. "I'm sorry, okay? But look, you're the one lying awake in the middle of the night confessing your deep dark secrets! What's the point of that if you didn't want me to hear it?"

He set his jaw.

"Yeah, you see?" I rubbed my hands over my upper arms. Fraser kept his apartment too damn cold. "I don't get you, Benny. By now I know more about the Inuit than the _World Book Encylopedia_ does, but it's news to me you had a crush on Smithbauer! Why can't you just tell me this stuff when I'm awake, huh? Like I didn't _beg_ you to tell me what was up with Frannie--"

He went completely rigid, and I realized I maybe shouldn't have said that. "You heard that?"

"I was dozing!" I protested. "I thought I was having a goddamned nightmare! You knew I was in the bed!"

He looked away. 

There was silence--a way longer one than I can usually stand, but you know, I just couldn't think of anything to say. Finally I told him, "I'm not mad at you about Frannie. I guess you maybe don't care if I am or not, but if you do--I mean, you didn't. In the end."

"I would have," he said, and now he just sounded done. Like he thought I didn't know what he was like, and now I did--

"Well, I kind of thought you had," I said shortly. "So you know, this is an improvement."

His eyes snapped up at that. "You thought I _had_?"

"Well, sure. Why would she want to tell everyone at the station about how you turned her down?"

Fraser blinked. "And you still--"

"Yeah," I said, a little bitterly. "I still."

Fraser sighed. "I'm not keeping secrets from you, Ray. Well, perhaps that would qualify as a secret, but generally, it's not so much a desire to deny you access to specific information as, well--"

"You don't ever talk about yourself," I cut in. "What, Benny? You think I'm gonna be bored? You think I don't care? You think I'm gonna judge you because maybe you think about something sometimes besides saving kittens?"

He didn't answer. 

It would have felt a lot better to keep bullying him, but let's face it, I knew damn well why Benny never talked about himself. "You just don't want to _impose_ , right? You don't want to ask me for anything. It wouldn't be _polite_ to actually have a _relationship_ with me!"

Fraser held himself very stiff. "I ask you for things all the time, Ray."

"Yeah, for other people! I done favors this week for Mrs. Stroumboulopoulos and Johnny 'the Pomegranate' Russo and the milk delivery guy for the gas station on the corner. But when's the last time you asked me for something, just for you?"

"You already give me your time, your affection, and the pleasure of your company," Fraser said, his eyes so flinty and his voice so steely I thought he was gonna light a fire right in the bed. "I hadn't realized you wanted a greater display of egoism on my part."

God, this was a mess. Fraser was broken so bad I didn't see how the hell I could fix it. "I just want you to be happy," I said helplessly. "I just want you to tell me what you _want_. I mean you don't even pick the _restaurant_ when we go out, Benny."

His mouth twisted. "I want _you_." He didn't sound happy about it. He didn't say he was happy.

I hated, just _hated_ how quick the love and the fear in my chest slicked over with anger, how well the three feelings fit together. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes so Benny couldn't see it. "Yeah, but I want you, too."

I swear I could _hear_ him frowning. "You _have_ me."

"No I don't, Fraser." I was never gonna be able to get back to sleep now. Not in Fraser's bed. I sighed. "Look, I'm just gonna go home, okay? I'll see you in the morning."

I opened my eyes in time to see him go white as the frozen North. "Understood."

"I'm not breaking up with you, Jesus!" I said, and his color got a little more normal. "I just need to think, okay?"

He nodded. Dief followed me to the door, nosing at my hand. "It's all right," I told him. "I'll see you tomorrow, got that? I'll bring you some coffee cake." The wolf has his eyes on the prize, I'll say that--at the first mention of cake he gave up on patching things over and started wagging his tail instead. 

I stood outside Fraser's door for a minute after I shut it, listening, but I think he knew I was there. I didn't hear anything.

###

So the next day I thought about it, and I came up with a plan. It was a pretty damn good one, if I do say so myself. I had a hard time not springing it on Fraser the second I picked him up from the Consulate, but he still looked kinda washed out, and like he was hiding a couple inches under his skin, and he kept watching me when he thought I wasn't paying attention. It had been a long time since we went a whole day without at least a phone call. 

I figured maybe a nice, normal evening was called for, so I took him out for dinner--and don't think I didn't notice his look of relief when I didn't ask where he wanted to go. I even made sure to play a little footsie with him under the table, which I don't normally do much of in public. He actually _squirmed_ , and smiled at me a little, like he thought I was kind of a loser but he liked me anyway, and Jesus. I'd been in love before, you know? But I guess I forgot what it felt like, like someone was pumping my chest full of helium and if Fraser's smile got even a little wider I might actually start floating. I could _not_ screw this up.

So I drove him home and--I never ask, but for some reason I said, "Can--can I come up?"

He gave me this kind of pissy look. "I would like that, yes." 

Dief met us at the door, the mercenary furball. "Okay, okay, I got it," I told him, pulling a somewhat squashed Hostess coffee cake out of my pocket and tearing open the plastic. "Now you wait in the hall."

I sat on the edge of Fraser's bed (not comfortable, but _way_ more comfortable than the chairs) and loosened my tie. He was at parade rest about ten feet away watching me patiently. There was something about it, though, maybe about the way his head was tilted, like if I didn't say anything he'd just stand there forever with that ostentatiously polite look on his face and not help me out one little bit. It reminded me of the way he looked at the Dragon Lady.

Fine. If that's the way he wanted to play it, no reason to go slow. I grinned at him, slow and smooth like honey, wider and wider till he blinked. "So I figured we'd start with sex."

Fraser blinked some more. "What?"

"Look, Benny, if we sit here every night and I try to drag sob stories about your childhood out of you, we'll both get tired of that real fast. I'm not your goddamned shrink, I'm your--" I stopped short. I had no idea what word to use. It had never seemed important--we were just _us_. But I could tell from the way Benny was holding his breath that it was important now. I racked my brains for what the lesbian couple next door called each other, the ones Ma was always fighting over the water bill with. "--partner!" I finished, laughing a little at how easy that should have been, how much sense it made. Fraser smiled back. "So here's the deal. You tell me what you want, and I don't do it. That way it's not really asking, right?"

Fraser looked at me like I'd gone completely off my rocker. "And what will you do instead?"

"Whatever I want." I winked at him, trying to cover how my heart was pounding. If this didn't work, I didn't know what the fuck to try next. I didn't know if I'd have the chance to try anything next.

Fraser licked his lip. "This is completely unnecessary, Ray."

"Yeah? Okay. You tell me what you want me to do to you, right now, in detail, and I'll do it, and we'll forget this ever happened. Deal?"

Fraser's mouth set into that snippy expression that sometimes gets me hot and sometimes gets me hot under the collar. Right then, it did both. "To which I can only say that an ultimatum is hardly going to--"

"To which _I_ can only say--oh, hell." The fight went out of me in the middle of my sentence and I ran a hand over my head. "Look, Fraser, this isn't just for you, okay?" I hoped I didn't sound as at the end of my rope as I felt. "This is what _I_ need. I need to know what you want so I can know that I'm giving it to you. Otherwise I get scared. Maybe you don't know what that feels like, Fraser, but it feels like shit, okay? It feels like you got your hand wrapped up inside me and maybe when you ride off into the snowset you'll forget to let go."

Fraser's face didn't soften exactly. It was more like it went sharp in a different, thoughtful way. He looked at me for a lot longer than I woulda considered optimal. "Ray," he said finally, "I want to not play this game."

I caught my breath, because he was being honest, he was telling me what he wanted, and he was--he was saying okay anyway, telling me what he wanted so I could not give it to him. He was anteing up. I went over and kissed him, because I was getting that helium-floaty feeling again and kissing Fraser helped. "Thanks, Benny." I slipped my arms around his waist, feeling relieved as all hell when he relaxed into them like he always did. "I promise we can work on one of my personality flaws next."

"Such as?" His tone of voice said there were too many to list and his eyes said he didn't give a shit.

"Maybe you can teach me to be polite," I suggested. "Make me say please and thank you." I was surprised as all hell when Benny's eyes went wide and dark. He _liked_ that idea. Holy shit. I liked it too, wanted it right there and then, Benny making me ask, making me beg, making me be grateful for what I got because Christ, I _was_ , I'd never done anything to deserve what Fraser gave me. That wasn't what tonight was about, but my voice still cracked as I said, "Can I borrow your handkerchief?"

He pulled it out and handed it to me, looking puzzled. 

"Turn around."

He obeyed, but when I put the blindfold over his eyes he jerked a little. "Ray?" He sounded uncertain.

I kissed the back of his neck. "You thought I was asleep and you were still watching the ceiling. I figured maybe it'd be easier."

He didn't say anything. Which meant he wasn't saying I was wrong.

"Take your clothes off." Normally that part takes a while for us--we're, uh, not the best with streamlined when we have sex--but I wanted to actually _get_ to the sex before he had time to get all self-conscious. So I watched him strip, his balance thrown off slightly by his blindness. My own pants were getting uncomfortable, so I went ahead and got naked too. Then I took a moment to ogle, because he couldn't see me doing it. "All right, Benny. What do you want me to do to you?"

Fraser licked his lips. "I--I--" He stalled.

"Lie down on the bed," I said, 'cause lust and sex _did_ loosen Benny up, maybe not to normal-guy standards but I'd seen him actually _slouch_ afterwards, actually giggle and grin without trying to hide it. 

I climbed between his legs and wrapped my hand around his half-hard cock. He breathed heavy and patient. I watched his broad, smooth chest rise and fall, watched him hold himself still, the ache in my own dick sharp and distant. The otter scar on his chest glimmered briefly in the lamplight as I tilted my head down and fit my mouth around his dick. 

Fraser loves getting blown--partly 'cause he's an observant guy and he probably noticed how good it feels, but I kinda get the impression, too, that he hadn't thought I'd be into it. Like he thought I'd think it was yicky or something. And every time he sees how much I like my mouth on him, like it when he leaks onto my tongue or tries to push down my throat--it turns him on like a neon sign. Just like now--I moaned around his dick and Jesus, he grew an extra inch at least in my mouth.

I held up my hand for him to lick, because turning Benny on--that turns me on like crazy. He didn't do it, though, and it took a second for me to remember it was because he couldn't see my hand. I pulled off. "Lick my hand." Fraser hastened to obey so enthusiastically he almost poked himself in the nostril with my fingers. So I went back to sucking him, jerking off at the same time, and it was really, really hard to stop. But I did, I pulled off again and said, "What do you want, Fraser?"

He tensed. 

I gave the head of his cock an encouraging lick. "C'mon, baby, you can tell me. What do you want?"

Fraser took a deep breath. "I want to see you," he said, in that extra-firm way that meant he was nervous.

"No way," I said cheerfully, and swallowed his dick again. He actually relaxed, like maybe he'd thought the whole thing was a trick. So I kept going, working him until he was shaking, until he was actually moaning, which let me tell you is a big concession from Benny. And then I pulled off again. "What do you want me to do next, Benny?"

He didn't say anything, but he reached down and started tugging on me. 

"Nuh-uh. You gotta say it. Out loud."

"Kiss me," Fraser said hoarsely. "Er, please."

I couldn't even believe it. Fraser's laid out on his bed blindfolded and his dick is shining with my spit, my mouth is two inches away and Fraser wants to _kiss_ me. And shit, now I wanted to kiss Fraser, but if I did he'd never believe I wasn't cheating. "Not really in the mood," I said, and went back to sucking him. He was close now, I could tell, and he'd done real good for a first round, so I figured I'd let him come without bugging him anymore--

"Please," he gasped. "Please--"

I stopped. "Yeah?"

Fraser froze.

"What do you want?"

He laughed a little, his head falling back on the pillow with a rueful _whoomph_. "I want to come, Ray."

So then I had to laugh too. "Guess you're outta luck, huh?"

"So it would seem."

I gave him one last lick and looked at him, trying to figure out what to do next. Reciprocity's kinda my trademark, you know? _Ray Vecchio? He drives a nice car and he's a generous lover,_ that's what they say. But now I had to come up with something selfish.

"Open your mouth," I said at last. I'd never have had the nerve to ask for this, the nerve to do this, if Fraser wasn't blindfolded. But Fraser did it. I took a deep breath and crawled up until I was kneeling over him, my dick just bobbing there over his open mouth. I could feel him waiting for it. I couldn't believe I was about to do this. I took another second to admire the view--

And then Fraser started to smile. "Ray," he said, "I want you to--"

"Do not say it, Benny, just don't say it!"

###

The next morning I was giving him a ride to work and I notice he's being awfully quiet. I'm not much of a morning guy--yelling at other drivers is about all I can manage before eight or nine o'clock--but Fraser usually fills the silence, even if it's just with telling me off for yelling at other drivers. _Shit._ I'd thought last night went well, but maybe Fraser'd hated it. Maybe Fraser hated _me_. 

I glanced over at him. He was sitting real stiff and looking out the window. "You okay?" I asked, pulling to a stop at a red light.

"I'm fine," he said tightly.

"You sure?" I slumped. "Look, you were right, I shouldn't have--" I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder while I was talking, and he started violently. Shit. He didn't even want me to touch him. "Fuck, Benny, I'm sorry."

He looked at me, then, frowning. "Sorry for what, Ray?"

I blinked. "Er?"

He gave me a tiny smile. "It's hardly your fault I'm reacting to your presence in a certain way. My predicament will subside as soon as you drop me off at the Consulate."

I blinked again, and looked at the front of his pants, and yeah, "predicament" was one word for it. Not one I'd ever used, but hey, Benny's Canadian. Well, that was a relief. "If you're willing to be a little later for work, I'm willing to park in this alley and give you a handjob."

Fraser looked uncertain. Then he nodded. Life was good. And this time I could kiss him as much as I wanted, provided we both kinda kept our heads down.

###

"Okay, Fraser. Today you're gonna tell me what you want, and then we're gonna do it."

Fraser froze. God, he looked so trapped. 

"It's been a week," I said, trying not to show weakness or fear. "It's going good, right? I mean, last night I barely had to prompt you."

He eyed me like I was gonna bite. "I think Diefenbaker needs to go for a walk," he said finally. Then with a glare at Dief, "Yes, you do."

Fuck. Fraser _really_ didn't want to talk about it. I almost called him on it, demanded to know what the big fucking deal was, because I just didn't get it. Yeah, okay, he was reserved and Canadian and blah blah blah, but was the goddamned sky gonna fall if he did a little give-and-take once in a while? 

But then I figured, he can only walk Dief for so long, right? He's too polite to run away. Eventually he'll come back and maybe he'll have figured out what to say by then. You gotta let it out before you reel it in. So I said, "Yeah, whatever, I'll just wait here," and tried not to flinch at the relief on his face.

He was gone for an hour. Enough time for me to page through the copy of _The Business of Organized Crime: An Assessment of Organized Crime Business-Type Activities and Their Implications for Law Enforcement_ on the floor by the bed, clean his refrigerator (what? I was nervous!), and still drum my fingers on the table for at least fifteen minutes while planning the heartrending speech I would make when Benny dumped me. It was a terrific speech. You could practically hear the violins. 

"This is insane, Fraser," I burst out the second he and the wolf walked in the door. Dief took one look at me and hid under the bed. "I'm not asking for the fucking moon! You know how hard this week has been for me? Do you?" 

He pressed back against the door and watched me, his eyes wary and stubborn and defeated. "I'm sorry, Ray," he said, so quietly I almost didn't hear him. "I tried to do as you asked."

"And you did, Fraser, that's the problem!" I yelled. "It doesn't come natural to me, okay? You tell me you want something, I want to give it to you! And instead I gotta--"

"All the more reason I shouldn't take advantage of your goodwill," Fraser said tightly.

I was so filled with frustration I thought my eyes might actually pop out from the pressure. Unfortunately, I've never been a punch-the-wall kind of guy--after you have to spackle over the first few holes your pop makes in the drywall, the idea kind of loses its charm. So I had to settle for waving my hands around like a crazy person and trying unsuccessfully to frame words for a minute or two. 

"It's not a zero-sum game, Benny! If we do what I want, it's great 'cause it's what I want. But if we do what you want, that makes you happy, and that--look, you gotta know how that makes me feel! You smile and I just--" I broke off and stared at the tiny refrigerator. There wasn't even a fucking magnet on it. "You make me so goddamned happy when you're not making me wanna scream, Benny, you know that? Before I met you I thought maybe happiness was just something that happened to other people, and--and I need to know that I'm making you happy too."

I heard a sliding sound. I turned back, and to my surprise, Fraser was sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. "Oh dear," he said, a half-laugh in his voice. "Ray. I'm afraid there's nothing I can say except what I was too afraid to say to you earlier. I'm afraid." He licked his lip. "And babbling, apparently."

It took me a second to parse that. "Afraid of _what_?"

"Afraid that we'll do what I want and it will be _wrong_." 

" _Wrong_? Wrong how, Fraser?"

He took a deep breath. "When I was a boy, my grandmother used to--" He glanced at me and stopped, doing some frustrated hand-waving of his own. On him it looked less like crazy street person and more like nuclear scientist trying to explain fission using only his hands. Then he dropped them onto the floor and said, "Well. I don't have the best instincts, do I?"

I stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

He raised his eyebrows in that _Haven't you been paying attention, Ray?_ way of his. "Remember Agent Chapin? You said you would bet your soul on her, and you were right--she was a law officer, and she cared for you. I _did_ bet my soul on Victoria, and she--well, you know the consequences. Probably better than I do."

Apparently I wasn't the only one who'd never been quite convinced by "Even Steven." Christ, Benny can get me madder than anyone on earth, but he can't seem to keep me there. Yeah, I was kinda bummed he'd dialed it down from a real story to something I already knew about, but he was _trying_ , and given how well Benny stonewalls that was--that was all I needed. Developing a nice comfy hatred for Fraser's grandmother could be something to look forward to. "You want _me_ , right? I mean, you want to call it off, now is the--"

"That's just silly, Ray," Fraser said with absolute confidence.

I grinned at him. "See? Those are some first-rate instincts right there." The eyebrows did a little hop, but his mouth curved reluctantly. "You just gotta _trust_ 'em, Fraser. You gotta stop not letting yourself hear them because you got some idea in your head about what you're _supposed_ to want."

Fraser looked at his hands. "I know it's irrational," he said quietly. "That doesn't prevent it from being overpowering."

I went over and sat down next to him, 'cause I didn't know what he needed but that made _me_ feel better. I kissed him. He kissed back, kissed me back with everything like he'd thought this was the end. Like maybe he still thought that. 

Fraser's everything is a _lot_. By the time I could stop I was straddling him, one hand snuggled into the hair at the back of his head and one hand hooked into his belt. _His_ hands were wrinkling my jacket, but hey, I got an iron. I pressed my forehead against his and closed my eyes. "I love you." First time. 

Fraser drew in a sharp breath. "I know," he said, and that was even better than _I love you too_. "Yeah. I know." He ducked his head and bit lightly at the tendon in my neck.

"You wanna forget about it for a few days?"

His hair tickled my chin as he shook his head. "You have to promise me," he told my neck, "that if you don't want to--"

I pulled back and opened my eyes. "Since when am I shy about saying no to things, Benny?" Which was kind of bullshit where he was concerned and I guess he knew it, because he just raised his eyebrows until I said, "Fine, fine, I promise."

"I want--" Fraser took a deep breath. 

I stopped breathing.

He met my eyes from maybe a foot away and said, "I want to be inside you."

I was speechless. Blindsided, sucker punched, whatever. I'd never done that before, I'd never done anything _like_ that before, with guys _or_ girls. Me and Benny had never even touched back there. It had always kind of grossed me out, you know? Embarrassed me. I could remember my mother telling me _Certain holes are for certain things_ \--saying it was wrong to ask a girl for a blowjob, I think, but I successfully repressed ninety percent of that conversation so I can't be sure. I never went to anything rated over G with Ma again, I know that. And while I'd distanced myself pretty firmly from that philosophy, part of me couldn't help feeling that somewhere shit came out was not somewhere anyone should be putting their dick, or their fingers, or God forbid their tongue. Besides, I'd heard too many stories from my contacts in the ER and the odd guy with balls enough to prosecute another guy for rape, stories about permanent internal injuries and broom handles stuck up someone's ass.

But that's what what I'd been doing all week, wasn't it? Asking Fraser to let me inside, trying to _make_ him let me in even when he wasn't sure he wanted to. If I couldn't do the same, then I wasn't much of a partner. What, did I think _Fraser_ was going to _hurt_ me? "Okay," I said, relaxing into his lap again. I could tell from his face that he hadn't expected me to agree, and then I was real glad I had. "But--I wanna be able to see you, okay? I mean, I don't want you to do me from behind." If I was gonna do this, I was damn well gonna see Benny enjoying it.

He frowned. "For your first time, it would probably be easier for you to--"

"Since when are we about easy, Fraser? See, this is how it works. You tell me what you want, I tell you what I want, we negotiate, we compromise, everyone's happy."

He took a little breath, let it out, nodded, and then squared his shoulders into guard duty position against the wall, like we'd skipped over the conversation he expected and he wasn't sure where we were now. "It's a deal."

We looked at each other. Part of me had been hoping we'd never have to have this discussion. I climbed out of his lap and sat next to him, because eye contact should be optional for some things. "So, uh..." I said. "I'm clean."

Fraser looked puzzled. "Yes, Ray, I appreciate the care you take with personal hygiene," he tried. "Although bathing or showering before anal intercourse is a common practice--"

I snickered. "No, I mean I'm _clean_. I'm not gonna give you chlamydia or anything. I got tested after we started going together."

Fraser's mouth made a little O. I could _see_ him filing away _clean_ for the next time he needed to put air quotes around something. "Ah. I too am not carrying any sexually transmitted diseases."

"You been tested?" I asked, surprised.

"Last December."

I frowned. Last December? Had he been seeing somebody I didn't know about? 

Then it hit me. Last December was six months after Victoria. Jesus, sometimes Benny was like a kid who still believed in Santa Claus, and then he turned around and he knew the score backwards and forwards. I pressed my shoulder against his. "Good," I said, trying to pretend that my voice wasn't shaking, because shit, I'd never even _thought_ about what Victoria might have given Benny besides some great sex and a nervous breakdown. "So, uh, this bathing or showering you were talking about--give me twenty, okay?"

###

The wolf was already waiting in the hall when I got back. Don't know why that made it seem more real, but it did. My squeaky-clean hand hovered above the knob of Fraser's door. I'd thought I'd be okay with this, but I was about thirty seconds away from having to breathe into a paper bag, and even though I hadn't put my jacket back on or even buttoned up over my undershirt, I felt like I had the worst sunburn of my life--hot and itchy all over. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, it was going to be awful and I would hate it and Fraser would _know_ that I hated it and this entire week would have been for _nothing_.

I waited too long--Dief decided I was there to feed him and started checking my pockets for junk food. "Aah, lay off!" I jerked the door open, went through, and shut it before he could find the moon-pie I was hoarding. Hey, sometimes I get hungry in the night. God knows there's never anything worth raiding in Fraser's refrigerator.

Fraser was just kinda standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. My eyes flicked instantly to the bed. He'd turned the blankets down neatly and laid out a towel. The plastic bottle of cooking oil was sitting on the floor next to the headboard. Great, I was gonna smell like corn for a week. I really needed to buy him some decent olive oil. (I focus on little stuff when I'm scared, okay? The shrink at the precinct says that's a completely normal reaction, although she also cleared me for active duty two weeks after I shot Fraser so maybe she isn't the most credible bulb in the chandelier.)

Fraser was watching me. It sorta reminded me of how Dief watches a doughnut--like he's stalking it through the tall grass but he's being subtle about it, even though hello, it's a doughnut, it's not gonna run away. I took in a deep breath, setting my shoes on the floor and carefully hanging my jacket and tie over a chair. I could do this, I could reassure him, I could--

"You know, Ray, my father always told me that--"

I turned around. "Benny, your father is the _last_ thing I want to be thinking about right now!"

Fraser licked his lip. "Understood." He stood watching me another minute while I tried to look like my heart wasn't about to jitter its way out my mouth. "There's a Russian proverb," he began at last, "that says 'The first pancake is always a blob.'" 

"Yeah, so?"

He took a step towards me. "It's all right if there aren't pyrotechnics the first time. It will probably be rather uncomfortable for you, and it's unlikely that you'll achieve orgasm. Just try to relax, and enjoy the experience for what it is." His mouth curved. "I plan to."

My heart slowed down a little, and then ratcheted back up at the promise in his voice. "Wait, you mean the earth isn't gonna move?" I said, but it sounded weak, and I was pretty sure I was looking at him like he hung the moon and then perked it up with a nice gold frame.

He took another step closer. "While earthquakes are not unheard of in Chicago, the most recent one that registered above a 5 on the Richter scale was in 1968."

"I remember tha--"

Fraser kissed me. 

"I dunno," I said a few minutes later. "The earth is definitely moving."

Fraser, flushed and tousled, gave me a little grin--and then he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder in a fireman's hold.

"Hey!" I said. "Hey, put me down!"

"Certainly, Ray." He dumped me onto the bed, my head hitting the pillow with a soft thud. I felt terrycloth under my hands, and God knows why but it gave me a little jolt of anticipation.

"You Tarzan, me Jane, huh?"

"In the books Tarzan spoke perfect English," Fraser informed me. "Of course, they were also poorly written and misogynistic pastiches of earlier adventure narratives. I hope you don't mean that you consider being the receptive partner in anal sex to be somehow unmanly."

I goggled at him, just for practice. He tilted his head back and did an uncanny impression of Johnny Weissmuller's long echoing call. 

Fraser was goofing off. Fraser was happy. _I made Fraser happy._

Then he looked at me and started undoing his shirt buttons. I got the message--but when I got to my boxers I hesitated, sitting on the edge of the bed with my thumbs flexing inside the elastic. I watched Benny shimmy out of his and dump them on the floor. He was hard. And big. I'd never really thought about his size before, but now--he knelt down by the bed and hooked his fingers into my waistband. "If you want to stop at any point--" His eyes were blue and earnest and beautiful.

"I already promised I'd say no," I said. "Besides, you saying I can't take it like a man?"

Fraser raised an eyebrow at me. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said, and tugged my boxers down and off. He kissed me raggedly and reached behind me for a pillow at the same time. "Put--" he swallowed. "Put this under your hips."

I arranged myself on the bed, head on one pillow, the other one under my hips, the towel spread to protect the sheets and pillowcases. I ended up with my legs spread and my knees bent. It wasn't the most flattering position from my angle, made my legs look even hairier and skinner than usual, and my dick was sorta just hanging out against my stomach, still only half-hard. I tried to think sexy thoughts, but I couldn't. At least, not until Fraser made a long, low humming sound and knelt between my thighs. It's impossible not to think sexy thoughts when naked Fraser has that bright, unfocused expression. 

He poured a little pool of oil into one palm, and then he just sat there, watching me.

"No rush," I said. "Why limit yourself to coming during this presidential administration?"

"I'm letting it warm up." Benny somehow managed to make that sound more suggestive than Rhonda-from-Miami's entire repertoire of come-ons. He dipped a finger in the oil and drew a pattern on my hip. I shivered. "See?" he said, with this tender little smile that made my stomach do funny butterfly things that weren't just nerves.

He slicked the warmed oil over his hand, and then he reached down and very, very lightly, laid the tip of his finger over my hole. I wished he wouldn't watch my face, I wished _I_ was wearing the blindfold even though it was my idea to do this face-to-face anyway, but I couldn't help it--I got hard. Because Fraser was _touching_ me in pretty much the most private, personal way I could think of. I hadn't thought I _could_ feel closer to Fraser, and here was the weird, sexy proof that I could. It was like the first time I put my tongue on Angie's pussy and it tasted weird and smelled strong and when she yelped and mashed her clit into my nose it was the greatest moment of my life up to that point.

He rubbed a few times, gently--it felt kind of good, if also greasy and unfamiliar--and then slid the tip of his finger in. I tensed involuntarily, and Fraser's breathing got loud enough I noticed it. I struggled to relax, and his finger slipped right in. It felt really, really weird, but also--I mean, Benny had his finger inside me, where no one had gone before, and from the wondering look on his face he _liked_ that. For the first time I got why guys wanted this. 

Now that he was in it was--well, it was really _uncomfortable_ , but it didn't hurt or anything, and he could kinda slide the finger up and down without any trouble. He was curling it inside me, feeling around.

"What are you looking for? I'm pretty sure there aren't any clues for the Merino case in my--ohhhhh!"

Fraser smiled smugly.

"Wha--oh, _Jesus_ \--what the hell is _that_? Shit, do that again!" 

He did. "That's your prostate, Ray."

I frowned and spread my legs a little wider. "Isn't that mostly for getting cancer?"

"It's also an erogenous zone," Fraser explained. "It's why receptive anal intercourse is pleasurable for a man."

"Ohhhh," I moaned, enlightened. Huh. I always figured getting fucked was like giving a blowjob--fun, but not come-just-from-that fun. I was kind of ticked off no one had ever bothered to clue me in.

"I'm going to try to insert another finger."

I nodded. 

He pulled his finger out--I felt stretched and open and I could feel oil dripping down my crack--and then he pushed two slick fingers in. 

It hurt like a bitch. I tried not to say anything, tried to relax and suck it up, but my breathing got panicky and my legs locked. Of course Fraser saw and stopped with only the tips of his fingers in. "I know an Inuit relaxation technique," he said, and bent down and took my dick in his mouth.

Benny gives really good blowjobs. I mean, he's just used to licking stuff, plus he _notices_ everything, you know? So it took him about five times to figure out exactly what I like and man, does he deliver. With his mouth on my dick, it was really hard to concentrate on how huge and wrong those fingers felt. They even kinda added, made it raw and overwhelming and new. So he got me gasping and pushing up into his mouth and then he pressed again with the fingers.

They slid in a little farther, but it still hurt like a bitch. This time I was expecting it, though, and Fraser didn't pick up on my reaction. I thought about faking it. I really did, I thought about not saying anything and just letting him fuck me. I mean, I couldn't even think of a time I'd refused Benny something he really wanted. Or even something I thought he really wanted. Which is when I realized that maybe he had a point not wanting to ask me for stuff. "Stop," I gasped. 

He did, immediately, pulled off and pulled out.

"So the Inuit go down on each other a lot?" I asked, trying to get my breath.

"Well, perhaps not as a formalized cultural practice. But I'm sure there are any number of individual cases."

I sighed, let my head fall back for a second. "I think this is something we're gonna have to work up to, Benny. I'm sorry, but maybe we should stick with one finger for tonight."

I hadn't even realized how tense he was until he relaxed. "Thank you, Ray," he said, his eyes soft and blue and glowing. "I appreciate your honesty."

"Only you would get all excited because your boyfriend said 'no,'" I told him, but I couldn't help smiling back. Turns out neither of us knew what the hell we were doing in this relationship, but we were figuring it out. We were partners and we'd never met a case we couldn't solve.

"Proper preparation prevents poor performance," he reminded me, oiling up his fingers again. Now that I knew we were going to take it slow, I could focus on how much that turned me on. How much the whole idea of giving it up for Benny turned me on. Benny in me. Benny fucking me. Wow.

He pressed in with his finger. It was easier this time. It didn't feel quite as weird. It felt _fine_. Fraser slid in it and out a couple times, gently, and made a contented little humming sound when I tilted up my hips. "Beautiful," he murmured. 

My heart seized, but I laughed, too.

"What's so funny, Ray?" he asked with mock affront.

"That's exactly how I talk to the Riv when I'm messing with her engine."

Fraser's mouth twitched. He slid the tip of his finger over my prostate, so lightly I barely felt it--but I _did_ feel it. "Well, you do have a special bond with your car."

"What can I say?" I gasped. "She's foxy."

Fraser leaned down and pressed a kiss to my hipbone, just a few inches from my by-now achingly hard dick. "I hadn't previously realized we were living in a _ménage à trois_ , Ray."

"I can't help it if you're slow, Fraser. We only have threesomes with her once or twice a week."

Fraser sighed theatrically, and I felt his breath against my dick. "You might have mentioned this earlier. A gentleman always brings a lady flowers the morning after sex."

"The Riv's allergic," I explained. "The pollen gets into the upholstery."

Fraser smiled and gave my cock a considering lick, then sucked the tip into his mouth.

It was all too much, Fraser's little grin and the finger up my ass and the overwhelming sense of relief that things were really okay. Fraser gripped the shaft of my dick in his free hand, sucking and licking the head, and a minute later I was coming on his tongue. Clenching around his finger, too, and for a few seconds I could barely remember my _name_. Hell, I could barely remember _Fraser's_ name.

Fraser licked his lips and pulled his finger out slow, giving me this contented, crazy, bright smile, and then he started climbing up me. 

"Are you kidding? Go wash your hands!"

"Oh. Sorry, Ray."

While he was in the bathroom I examined the bed. Nothing brown anywhere, thank God, but the oil had soaked through the towel onto the pillow. Looked like we were gonna be sharing tonight. "See, Fraser, this is why having an extra pillow can be handy sometimes," I yelled, throwing the towel across the room so I couldn't smell the corn oil and dumping the pillow onto the floor. "Or even just an extra pillowcase."

Fraser appeared in the doorway, naked and hard. "You know, Ray, material possessions only tie us down."

I saw what he meant. When he'd come to Chicago, everything he owned fit in my backseat. Hell, it probably still did. "Well, that's how I like you," I retorted.

"Tied down?" He blinked in innocent puzzlement, like he had no idea that sounded dirty. But I was onto him.

I rolled my eyes. "Metaphorically."

He leaped onto the bed, covering me with his warm, solid body, his still-damp hands pinning my wrists on either side of my head. I could smell the lavender soap Ma had given him for Christmas. "I suppose it would only be acknowledging an already-existing state of affairs." His erection was hot against my thigh.

"Huh?"

"Buy me a new bed," he said, low and wicked. "Please."


End file.
